The Scariest Thing On Halloween
by hope-is-4ever
Summary: What, in the Trigun world, would be the most frightening thing of them all? Oneshot


A/N: It's Halloween. I simply HAD to do _something_. So here it is. Just a small piece of humor.

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**The Scariest Thing On Halloween...**

There were some traditions that had been continued on Gunsmoke, even though they were no longer on Earth. Celebrating holidays was one of those things.

Today just happened to be one of those days. Halloween.

The time when ghosts and ghouls were supposed to walk amongst the living, when evil held sway over the world.

"Humans are ridiculous creatures."

Indeed, evil did exist, but not as some specter, no. The form it took was more insidious than that.

"What an ideal waste of time."

Knives Millions, mankind hater extraordinare, was, in Meryl Stryfe's opinion, the epitome of evil and the very bane of her existence.

And he was the biggest spoil sport on the planet. Not only was he not going to wear his designated costume, but he had also planned on scaring away any trick-or-treaters that came their way. She knew this because she'd seen the plans that he'd accidently left on his desk. The insurance lady hadn't read too far before he'd barged into the room, but what she had seen was cruel and unusual.

After all, who was mean enough to dump a pot full of Vash's cooking onto a bunch of kids?

To combat this new and insidious plan of his, she'd kept Vash and his brother (just in case he had decided to use HIS food shudder) from the kitchen the entire day.

Needless to say, he'd been a little put out for the remainder of the day.

Then the spiky-haired twin just had to come up with the idea of all of them dressing up. Vash had chosen all the costumes himself, saying that they matched their personalities. For himself he'd chosen to be a vampire and Millie was a rabbit. At one glance of her outfit, that of a witch, she'd knocked the idiot flat on his face with a well-aimed punch.

Then he'd had the gall to ask her to convince Knives to put his on! As if! She'd tried to explain that his brother was in no mood (and probably would _never_ be) but he'd ignored her words of wisdom in favor of his idea.

So she'd beared the lion in his den, already dressed up. The outlaw had been nothing if thorough in his costume search. Her outfit had come with a hat and full length robe that covered her from head to toe. All of which, much to her horror, had come in an unsightly purple.

When Meryl had entered the genocidal plant's room, after knocking but receiving no answer, she'd watched as Knives had done something completely out of character. He'd laughed. Laughed! At her!

If there was ever a moment for justifying murder, it was then, with his deep, throaty chuckles and that smug smile.

But she'd fixed that quickly. She'd only had to hold up his own costume and all of the laughter had fled from him.

The sight of a large, orange mess of material complete with a small, orange hat completely sobered him. The glare he'd sent her had been his most chilling. The meaning was clear.

There was no way that he, Knives Millions, was going to dress up as a pumpkin.

Convincing him otherwise had been a feat in and of itself. Vash would so owe her for the pain she'd gone through.

After the initial death glare, the plant had said a single word, putting all of his displeasure in that one syllable.

"No."

Using his costume as a shield between his glower and herself, she'd begun her coercing.

"But it's for you brother," she told him, as if that would settle everything.

"No."

"He'd be extremely disappointed in you if you didn't."

"No."

"You don't want to see him pout, do you?"

"..."

There! She'd hit him where it hurt most. If there was one thing Knives hated, it was to see his brother mope. Not because he didn't want his brother to be sad, because that was often not the case. He knew his brother had a tendency to be over dramatic and oversensitive.

But the sight and sound of his twin acting like a three year old was simply too much for him. The long sighs and drooping face were enough to drive anyone crazy. And as he was crazier than most, Knives tended to completely lose his cool with a great explosion of temper.

After venting himself on his sibling for a few minutes, none of which had the desired effect of stopping the pouting, he would give in and do whatever it was that his brother wanted, if only to make him stop.

This was a constant cycle and thus far the score was Vash 103 and Knives 0. He'd kept count himself.

So Meryl had presented him with a quandary. Either he could refuse the costume now and go through Vash's pouting for the next few hours and still end up wearing the hideous monstrosity...Or he could put it on now and avoid his brother disgracing himself.

Either way he would be doomed.

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The sound of little feet padding along on wooden porch outside alerted all within the house that trick-or-treaters were approaching. The following knock confirmed this.

The group of children stood in front of the door. Strange people lived in this house, but they knew that Vash lived here as well and that made trick-or-treating here alright. He always played with them and gave them treats. And maybe the adult with the heart of a child would give them more candy. A kid could hope.

But when the door swiftly swung open the person who stood in the doorway was not their beloved friend. Instead it was the other guy who lived in this house, the one that never spoke to anyone and would always glare at them from his second story bedroom window.

They referred to him as 'the hermit'. He rarely came outdoors, or at least as far as they'd seen.

But even with his reputation there were still a few snickers from the little ones as they saw him in the large, orange pumpkin costume.

The stare he gave them, full of hostility, silenced them.

Wordlessly he held out a bowl filled to the brim with all sorts of candied goods. Cautiously one of them reached out and grabbed a handful. His lips turned down into a frown and the child, hand shaking, caught his message and put all but one piece of candy back into the bowl.

The rest followed suit and when the last one had taken their share, the frightening man had stepped backward into the house, and quietly and slowly shut the door.

Shivering in their costumes, the kids had watched as his face and orange outfit disappeared from view. It wasn't until they heard the click of the door latching that they felt it was safe to breath again.

One frightened trick-or-treater, voice shaking slightly, said, "Scary..."

The rest wholeheartedly agreed.


End file.
